


The Pain

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Outside Edge [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, Hockey, Ice Skating, M/M, Teen Romance, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 12:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11148786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: While Sebastian evaluates new recruits for the Ice-plex's J.V. hockey team, one of his wannabes gets in hot water with Kurt when he cuts off a figure skater.Tensions run high and secrets are revealed.





	The Pain

“Alright! Thank you so much, guys and gals, for showing up to this year’s hockey team tryouts!” Sebastian glides down the line of potential recruits, dropping pucks in front of them while he speaks. “It’s been a long three days of drills, but we’ve finally narrowed it down to you guys.” Sebastian stops to give the kids in front of him - holding their sticks at the ready, waiting for their chance to be unleashed and show their stuff - a stern once over. “You should be proud of yourselves. That’s a _huge_ accomplishment.” They hold themselves a little straighter, a little taller for Sebastian saying that. “Before we begin, a little background for those of you who may not already know ...”

Sebastian knows a handful will already know what he’s about to say. These kids have been raised at this rink. They could skate before they could walk. Sebastian has seen a few of them grow up here. He’s been their junior coach for the past five years.

God. He’s only a teenager and already he feels like an old man.

“Westerville Ice-plex has four leagues – junior boys, junior girls, and our two co-ed top tiers, J.V. and Varsity. J.V. are the Ice Dragons and Varsity are the Fighting Titans. You guys are here to become … _Dragons_.” The boys and girls clap and high five one another. “The Westerville Ice Dragons are not just any team. We don’t just win tournaments and bring home trophies. We also do exhibitions, volunteer workshops, charity events, community service, highway cleanups, you name it. Becoming a member of this team isn’t only about your skills on the ice, it’s about who you are as a person. Yes, we have only one captain and one co-captain, but all of you are expected to be leaders. In order to stay on this team, we need to see community involvement outside of the rink, and we need to see good grades. If you need help in either of these areas, we have more than enough people here to help you. But if you start to lag without asking for help, you’ll be removed to second string. Is that understood?”

“Yes, coach,” the kids say, staggered between nervous swallows.

“90% of the players who have ever been on either the J.V. or Varsity team have received offers of scholarships to some of the best schools in the nation. Ice Dragons and Fighting Titans from the past three decades have attended every Ivy League school in the country. Our players are so sought after that one of the Titans’ best goalies received the offer of a full scholarship to Penn State, and he only played one season.”

“Wow.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Who is that, coach?”

“Oh, you’ve all seen him if you skate here regularly, you probably just don’t know it.” Sebastian smiles deviously. “We call him _The Pain_.”

“Why? Is he a jerk?” one girl scoffs.

“No,” Sebastian says with a hint of glower. “He’s the best goaltender we’ve ever had. Faster than lightning, almost superhuman fast. He can anticipate most any move. And he’s _fearless_. No one could get anything by him. That made him a pain in the ass,” Sebastian grumbles, acknowledging that that means _he_ couldn’t get anything by him either. “Anyway, we have five spots opening up and seven of you, so obviously a few of you will not be making first string.”

“Make that eight.” Another boy, suited up and with stick in his hand, slides to a stop at the end of the line. “Sorry I’m late, coach. I had a little trouble making my way over here.” He jabs a thumb behind him, but Sebastian doesn’t follow it, focused on the boy who skidded in over fifteen minutes late as if that kind of behavior would be excused.

“You know, we value punctuality on this team,” Sebastian says, arms crossed, “so this doesn’t look good for you.”

“Sorry,” the boy says, not sounding all that sorry. “Like I said, not my fault.”

“Hey! Hey you!”

Sebastian looks over the boy’s shoulder when he hears his boyfriend’s voice, and even though he sounds madder than hell, Sebastian can’t help smiling.

“Hey, Kurt. What’s up?”

“Your little latecomer there almost knocked over a figure skater!”

Sebastian looks at the boy for a reaction. There’s really only one acceptable reaction in this situation … and the boy doesn’t give it.

“Well, they need to learn to get their fruity asses out of our way,” he says with a superior smirk.

Kurt slides to a stop – a _hockey_ stop in his razor sharp figures - spraying the boy’s skates with snow, which makes him seethe. “They’re practicing in _their_ section!” Kurt says, leaning in to talk into the cage of the boy’s helmet. “You have _no right_ to cut them off! We’re sharing this rink until the other one’s resurfaced! No sport takes precedence on the ice here!”

“Uh, I’d check again,” the boy has the nerve to clap back, “because last I looked, hockey has the tallest trophy in the case after last Friday’s game.” He glances to the side, expecting support from the other hopefuls in line, but they’ve already started to back away.

Sebastian can see Kurt getting steadily angrier, but he manages to keep his cool. “Well then I’d get your eyes examined because _technically_ , after last Sunday’s competition, figure skating has the tallest trophy. I know because it happens to be _mine_. And _I’m_ telling _you_ that no sport here takes precedence on the ice. You knock over one of my skaters, and you’re out of this rink. I don’t care who you are or what team you’re on. And there isn’t a single coach here, junior or senior, who won’t back me up.”

The boy rolls his eyes but Kurt doesn’t let that rile him. He looks at Sebastian, staring back at the two of them with hard eyes, and says, “Keep your boy in check, Smythe. This is the only warning he gets.”

Sebastian nods. “You got it.”

Kurt turns on his blades and heads across the ice.

“That’s right,” the boy mutters. “Sashay away.” The boy flips his stick and taps the heel on the ice, knocking one of the pucks into another. He takes a peek around. No one’s paying attention to him. Coach is watching that obnoxious figure skater skate towards the penalty box while the other kids trying out for the team have clustered as far away from him as possible, not even trying to be inconspicuous.

Then there’re the line of pucks, sitting on the ice, in perfect firing formation.

At that moment, he decides that there’s no reason for him to be the outcast here. He didn’t do anything wrong. Everyone knows that hockey is where the money is for any rink worth a shit.

So he’s not about to be told off by a frickin’ _figure skater_.

Sebastian doesn’t know how Kurt sees it. Sebastian didn’t see it, too preoccupied with watching Kurt skate and trying to decide how best to handle his newest troublemaker. The odds of him being Ice Dragon material are slim, but he can’t just cut him loose now. But what if he causes problems later on? With that attitude, how the heck did he even make it this far?

However Kurt sees it, thank God he does, because a hit from a puck at speed anywhere on the body can devastate a skater, hence the full body armor hockey players wear during every game. Rink management even requires that their hockey players wear skates with Kevlar guards after one player’s career ended when a shot to the ankle shattered the bone. A strike anywhere on Kurt’s body could be a career ender, and if not, the amount of time it would take him to recover might derail him regardless.

But Kurt swivels out of the way just in time to avoid a puck to the thigh. He storms back over, a glare in his blue eyes that would stop a charging bull elephant in its tracks.

The boy chuckles nervously, backing away in surrender with arms raised. “Oops! Sorry about that. That one just slipped.”

“I’ll bet,” Kurt says. Sebastian arrives at his side in a second without any idea if he skated over to hold Kurt back, or to hold the kid down while Kurt punches him. “Shooting a puck with the intention of striking another skater is grounds for immediate disqualification from any team at Westerville Ice-plex. Get off the ice.”

The boy’s smile turns into a scowl. “What!?”

“He’s right,” Sebastian says. “Get to stepping. _Now_.”

“No way! This is bogus!!”

“No, what’s _bogus_ is you thinking you could assault another skater and get away with it,” Kurt says. “You’re lucky I don’t report you to the police!” The boy looks relieved until Kurt adds, “But I _am_ reporting you to the league. Don’t expect to skate in competition any time soon.”

The boy stares for a second, mouth agape, searching for the right cutting remark that won’t just win his argument, but get him on the team. That would show up that stupid figure skater! It would shut him up real good. But, in the end, he decides it’s not worth it. There are other teams, _better_ teams … somewhere. He’s sure that there’s no way they can make good on their threat. They can’t keep him from playing.

He’ll show them.

“Whatevs,” he says, taking his stick and skating off the ice. He cuts through the penalty box to avoid coming into contact with anyone else. Sebastian watches him go until he disappears into the lobby and he can’t see him anymore.

“I gotta send my kids to the other rink.” Kurt gives Sebastian a reassuring smile and skates away. Sebastian sighs. More than likely, that kid gets his attitude problem from his parents. Parents, in Sebastian’s experience, tend to be more aggressive than the players, and that’s really sad, because a player like that boy, with an admittedly kickass slapshot, might end up benched because he can’t get his ego or his attitude under control. But Lord knows he probably didn’t start out that way the first time he strapped on skates.

Sebastian’s mom used to say there are no bad kids, only bad parents. He used to think that was a stupid excuse, that everyone is responsible for their own actions no matter what their age. But the more bad kids he meets, the more bad parents he sees.

The more the saying fits.

“Now that that’s over, let’s get these tryouts rolling, shall we?” Sebastian says, finding his upbeat attitude again. “You’re going to give me ten laps around the ice. You’re going to give me twenty pushups on your fists. You’re going to show me your best shoot the duck, Russian lunges, belly slides, knees spins, and edge work. And after you’ve warmed up, you’ll be evaluated - individually and as a group. This isn’t the time for showboating. Your best chance at earning a spot is by showing us you’re willing to put the good of the team above yourselves. We wanna see how you handle the puck, how you pass, how you shoot, and how you approach the goal.”

One girl raises her hand, and Sebastian points to her. “Yes?”

“You keep saying _we_ , coach.”

“Yup,” Sebastian says. “ _We_.”

“Is that like … the royal _we_?”

“ _He_ would say so.”

The boys and girls look around, but they don’t see anyone else except a spattering of figure skaters exiting the ice, and Kurt, circling back their way.

“Who’s _he_ coach?”

“Yeah. Who’s gonna evaluate us?”

Kurt stops beside Sebastian, giving the boys and girls a bright new smile and a wave, as if the tension from before had never happened.

“Hey, guys,” he says. “Let’s get down to business.”

The kids look down the line at one another, confused, but Sebastian puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and smiles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe you all know Kurt Hummel - ten time gold medalist and the pride of Westerville Ice-plex.”

Sebastian hands Kurt his hockey stick. He weighs it in his hands, then flips it around his wrist. It spins three times before he catches it, slapping the blade on the ice. Only then do the kids notice that Kurt has changed out of his figures and into hockey skates.

“But around here,” Sebastian continues, “we call him _The Pain_.”


End file.
